


To Feel Lethal

by humanveil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Draco Malfoy, Erotophonophilia, Frottage, M/M, Unapologetic Death Eater AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-28 15:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: He can feel it explode throughout his chest as the jet of green light hits Dumbledore, can feel it spread through every vein in his body as Dumbledore topples over the Tower’s edge. The rush of power – brilliant, beautiful, breathtaking.As Snape’s hand closes around his collar, Draco smiles.





	To Feel Lethal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cutepoison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutepoison/gifts).



> Just a little glimpse of an AU I like to play with in my head. Dedicated to cutepoison because he inspired me to actually write something for it. 
> 
> Not tagged for underage because Draco would be 17, which is legal both where I live and in canon.

Months’ worth of planning, finally paying off.

Draco stares at Dumbledore, knuckles white as he grips his wand. He can hear Greyback behind him, egging him on. Can hear Yaxley and Amycus, too. Dumbledore is making faux promises, things Draco is certain he’s only saying to make him stop. To let him live.

As if that’s an option.

There’s a rustle as someone is let through the barrier, and Draco spares a quick glance to his side, thankful to see it’s only Professor Snape. Severus nods at him, a minuscule movement of his head, and Draco turns back to face Dumbledore, his grip growing impossibly tighter.

He knows what he has to do – knows he can’t afford to wait any longer. He squares his shoulders, the memories of every lesson he’d endured with his Aunt rushing to the forefront of his mind. Just as Greyback starts to claim he can’t do it, Draco opens his mouth.

_“Avada Kedavra.”_

The reaction is instant. He can feel it explode throughout his chest as the jet of green light hits Dumbledore, can feel it spread through every vein in his body as Dumbledore topples over the Tower’s edge. The rush of power – brilliant, beautiful, _breathtaking_.

As Snape’s hand closes around his collar, Draco smiles. 

They race out of the Tower, Snape barking orders at the other Death Eater’s, and Draco damns the presence of Potter’s friends for the umpteenth time that night. Nothing can ever be _easy_ , he thinks. Not while he’s still around.

“Go,” Snape barks, lips close to Draco’s ear. Draco can feel his breath on the back of his neck, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. “Keep hidden.” _Or they’ll kill you_ goes unsaid.

Draco does as he’s told, sprinting through the familiar Hogwarts grounds, dodging the spells that shoot through the chaos surrounding them as best he can. His throat burns, the taste of blood coating the back of his tongue, but he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t look back. Severus had been through the process with him more than once, had told him time and again that he was to run and hide, to wait until either he or another trusted Death Eater found him, and Draco isn’t willing to risk it.

He makes it to the Apparation point eventually, the shouts and screams still loud behind him. He finds an alcove and hides within it, wand held in his hand, chest heaving with panting breaths. His chest is still light with power, his body near shaking with adrenaline. He presses his face against his elbow to muffle the sound of his heavy breathing, and can’t stop the grin that pulls at his mouth.

 _Success_ , he thinks. _Glory_. His and no one else’s.

He can hear faint shouts, the battle still roaring in the distance. Can see the glow of flames as Hagrid’s hut burns. Draco watches from his hidden alcove, waiting.  

Eventually, the shouts are joined by the sound of heavy footsteps, and Draco is relieved to see they belong to Snape. “Come,” he beckons, and Draco does, taking hold of the offered arm and leaning against the Professor’s side as they leave Hogwarts behind.

*

They land in an abandoned cottage, the structure old and run down; a faint damp smell tainting the air. “Safe house,” Snape explains. “We’re to wait here until His Lordship calls.”

Draco barely takes a look around before he turns on Severus, leaning up to press their mouths together, the kiss wet and desperate. His fingers clench in Severus’ robes, his heartbeat loud and erratic in his own ears.

Snape pulls back before it can go any further. “I thought I told you no.”

Draco whines, low and breathy. “You said it was against the _rules_ ,” he says. “I just killed the Headmaster, I don’t think the rules apply to me anymore.”

Snape snorts quietly, lips curling to expose a flash of sharp teeth. “Still—”

“Aren’t you proud of me?” Draco breathes, cutting him off. He presses his hips forward, his already straining erection brushing Severus’ thigh. “I did what you told me.” Draco slides a hand down Severus’ chest, his body pressing impossibly closer. “He’s going to be so pleased. With both of us.”

Because Draco won’t be able to dispel Severus’ role in his success; the way the man had helped improve his own plans, once Draco had let him. Draco doesn’t think it will matter much, not when he’d been the one to do it in the end. He’d done what the Dark Lord wanted him to do – no one could take away from that.

Snape’s hands settle on Draco’s waist, his long fingers spreading across the torso. He doesn’t bring him forward, but he doesn’t push him away either. “Draco,” he says, but there’s none of the hesitance that had been there the last time Draco had tried to do this. None of the rejection.

It’s as good as a yes in Draco’s opinion. He presses forward, breath hitching as he brushes Snape’s thigh again. Severus sighs, but it’s not with annoyance. Rather, it’s a sign he’s given in.

He walks them back, further into the room until they’ve both settled on the dusty couch that rests against the back wall. Draco straddles Snape’s lap, hands clutching onto his shoulders and mouth plastered to the Professor’s. Neither know how much time will pass before they’re called, but they both plan to make the most of it.

Their movements are desperate, hurried; fuelled by post-battle adrenaline and the power rush that still surges within Draco’s chest. He pushes clothes out of the way hastily, hips grinding down on Snape’s impatiently. Severus grips his waist, his hold guiding the movement of Draco’s hips while the boy claws at skin, teeth nipping at Snape’s lips, his jaw, his neck.

It doesn’t go beyond that – there’s no time for Severus to lay him down and fuck him properly, but Draco doesn’t care. His body is jittery with adrenaline and he doesn’t think he’ll last long enough for it. He promises himself _later_ ; knows there will more be instances such as this, where his body thrums with power and pleasure, desperate for some sort of release.

He gets Snape’s trousers open eventually, and it’s with some difficulty that the older man clasps both their cocks together. Draco moans low and loud as a finger runs over his slit, collecting the precome and using it to ease the way.

“Please,” Draco breaths, rocking into the movement of Snape’s hand. It’s followed by another moan, a mantra of _pleasepleaseplease_ as Snape works his hand up and down, watching as Draco falls apart in his lap.

It doesn’t last long. They’re both over worked, stressed; their bodies exhausted and clinging to the pleasure. When Draco comes, it’s with a shout that’s muffled by Snape’s mouth, the Professor following shortly after.

They both breathe heavy, the room filled with the sound. Draco doesn’t move from Snape’s lap, not until he’s spelled the mess away.

“I,” Draco starts, but quiets when his left arm starts to burn. His eyes widen at the familiar pain, whatever he’d been about to say leaving him.

Snape stands, hands fiddling with his robe until he looks decent. “Fix yourself,” he says.

Draco scrambles to do that, taking hold of the offered arm once finish. As they Apparate away, he thinks only one thing.

_His time has come._


End file.
